I Can Make You Every Inch a King
by Sidalee
Summary: A hot Saturday afternoon, a difficult case, a bottle of tequila and the computer table. A McKono Smut Sunday fic. (Re-upload)


**Disclaimer:** I own nothing you recognize…

**A/N: **Don't know why but a few of my stories disappeared from my account so I had to re-post them. So yeah, nothing new. Sorry.

Some meaningless smut for this hot Sunday. Maybe I make it a habit, who knows.

Tell me what you think!

* * *

_I need someone young, willing and able_

_You need someone old enough to know better_

…

It's a hot Saturday afternoon, yeah, you heard it right, they are working on the weekends too when they have to, and it's just her and Steve sitting at the smart table with permanent frowns on their faces.

This case is a nightmare, they've spent a week and a half already trying to solve it but every angle is a fucking dead end and Kono finds herself missing those times when they've got beaten, blown up or shot but they were done in like fifty minutes plus commercial breaks.

She doesn't know what the hell they're still doing in here, Chin and Danny had already left to spend some time with their families and Kono is itching to go surfing to decompress a little but she knows that Steve's not gonna leave anytime soon so she stays put, scowling at the big screen over his shoulder.

She could be out with friends right now, her board is already in her car, she has her bikini on and the cooler in her office is full of…

She jumps out of her seat, striding towards her office with determined steps.

"What, hey, Kono," she hears Steve calling after her. "Something's wrong?"

"Nah," She shouts back. "I just remembered that I still got some booze back here. What's your poison? Whiskey?"

"What?" He's standing at her office's door now, looking at her all confused. "Uh, no. Not really. You want to drink? Now?"

"We need a distraction. I need to relax. _You_ need to relax." She holds up a bottle with a grin. "Tequila?"

"Yeah, okay." He shrugs and lets out a resigned sigh.

They walk back to the computer table where Kono places the stainless steel shot glasses on the surface. She pours them each a shot, and they raise their glasses in a mini toast before downing them.

"Damn, that's good," she says, wincing slightly as the liquor burns its way to her stomach. "Too bad we don't have any limes."

"No, but…" He gets up suddenly and walks into his office, coming back with a shaker of salt from his birthday party. "We got this."

"Nice," she grins, remembering his face when he took the first bite of the cake. "Come on, let's sit."

"Ladies first." He pours out a couple of shots and hands her the shaker.

"What a gentleman." She rolls her eyes at him, licking the space between her thumb and forefinger, sprinkles on some salt, licks it clean and tosses back her shot, letting out a contented sigh.

"Uh huh," he agrees, and follows her lead. "Another?"

"Do it," she says.

He pours out the shots, and they repeat the process all over again.

"Do you have any quarters?" She asks out of the blue.

"Quarters, huh?" He snorts.

Booze makes Steve kinda goofy, Kono noticed that some time ago. He smiles a lot more and he's blinking less and much slower, his eyelashes fan over his cheeks and times like this she finds him heartbreakingly beautiful.

Okay, booze makes her stupid, apparently.

"What?" She says, grinning. Her head is already starting to swim. "What's your game?"

"Don't do drinking games," He says with a shrug. "More fun just to do the drinking part."

"I bet you are not much of a drinker anyway. How about cards?" She pushes, doesn't really knowing why. Maybe she likes this loosened version of him. "Poker?"

"Yeah," He says with a nod. "Sometimes."

"I wonder if there's a deck of cards around here somewhere," she glances around. "We could play a few hands."

"You any good?" He pours out another couple of shots.

"Yeah. I'm all right." She shrugs nonchalantly. "We played a lot back then, between competitions."

"What's your game? Five cards? Hold 'em?"

"Strip," she says with a smirk, and giggles when he almost chokes on his shot.

"That so," he says slowly, eyes narrowed. "You any good?"

"Find a deck of cards and I'll beat the cargos off of you," She drawls flirtatiously. "Literally."

"Might be worth it." His voice gets low, his eyelids dropping a little.

"My glass is empty." She motions with her hand because the air suddenly shifts around them, getting charged with something really, _really_ dangerous.

"Yeah, yeah." He pours more tequila in their glasses. "Be a tease."

Before he can do anything to stop her, she leans in close and licks the skin at the base of his neck. He's warm and solid and smells like ozone and the ocean, and he freezes up when she touches him, like he can't remember or doesn't know what it's like to have someone _that_ close. Or maybe it just because she is the one who does the touching.

"What are you doing?" Steve asks, voice husky and his breath is warm on her cheek.

"Don't tell me you've never done body shots, boss." She clicks her tongue against the roof of her mouth.

She sprinkles salt on the wet skin she'd left behind and raises her head to look him in the eye. He's conflicted, that much she can see, but his blue eyes are growing darker and there's something else in there, too, that she's never seen from him before.

Leaning in close again, she slowly licks the salt off his neck and slams back the shot, wiping her mouth on the back of her hand. His eyes follow her movements the entire time.

"My turn, then." He picks up the salt shaker and waggles it at her.

Kono leans back in her chair and quirks an eyebrow, challenging him.

He scrapes his chair on the floor until he can get closer, his legs pressing against hers. Gently, he moves the collar of her shirt out of the way, then leans in to lick a line along her collarbone. She can't help the sigh that escapes while squeezing her eyes shut and resists the urge to grab the back of his hair to keep him where he is.

He shakes a healthy sprinkling of salt along the same spot and licks again, his tongue warm and rough against her skin. Reaching toward the table, he barely moves away from her when he tips the glass back against his teeth and downs the shot.

"Steve," She breathes, already sick of the game.

Because it's not a game. Not anymore.

"Your turn." He pours another round and leans heavily against the edge of the table.

"I think, I sit this one out." She eyes him and licks her lips.

"Okay." He nods, his eyes serious and suddenly he doesn't look drunk at all. "Come here, then,"

He puts his hands on her thighs and yanks until she slides forward in the chair, his knee pressing between her legs. He pulls the tank top she's wearing down until her bra is visible, then licks along the valley between her breasts. She sucks in a breath when he sprinkles salt and blows cool air on her skin.

"You ready?" He smiles at her, thin and feral.

"Do it." She croaks and she can barely breathe from the tension.

He curls a hand around her ribcage, pressed up against her breast, and leans in closer. Slowly, he runs his tongue along the line of salt, licking her skin clean. He nips at her as he goes, and she bites back a groan.

The shot gets tossed back like it's an afterthought, and he reaches for her again, tugging her by the front of her shirt to slant his lips over hers. He tastes like salt and tequila and danger and sex.

She moans from somewhere low in her throat and climbs onto his lap, straddling his hips as she kisses him. Beneath her, he's hot and hard and pressing against the inside of her thigh. He grips her waist and bucks up against her once, twice, and she breathes heavily against his neck.

Her teeth scrape along the column of his throat, and he slides his hands from her waist to her backside before he grips the back of her thighs and stands. Kicking the chairs away, he lays her on the smooth surface of the smart table and hitches her legs up around his waist, his hands running up and down her thighs.

Yanking him by the collar of his shirt, she circles her arms around his neck and kisses him hard. Her hands bunch in the back of his shirt, attempting to pull it up, desperate to touch his skin. Separating from her, he pulls it off and watches as quickly removes her top.

His undershirt is gone next, and so are the shot glasses, clinking as they roll onto the floor and scatter. She twists one hand behind her back and unhooks her bra, then pulls it off and tosses it wherever their shirts went. Steve just stares at her for a moment, and she pulls him down again, pressing their bare skin together.

"Touch me," she commands and nips at his earlobe.

With a groan, he lets his hands slide up to cup her breasts, thumbing her nipples. Undoing her jeans, he pulls them off and steps between her legs again. He thrusts against her, and the friction makes her gasp and hook her legs tighter around his back.

"Come on," she urges.

He does it again and again, and he almost wants to make a crack about doing this in the back of a car a few times in high school, but then she's coming with a squeak and a gasp, gripping his shoulders, and he can't take it anymore.

He hooks his thumbs into her underwear and pulls them off, then undoes his belt and cargo pants without breaking his stride. She pushes them down with her feet as he stretches her arms over her head.

Loosely holding her wrists with one hand, he guides himself with the other until he's pressing inside her. She cries out when he fills her, and he covers his mouth with hers.

He starts to move, forgoing a slower pace because he just can't at this point, and she raises her hips up to meet his thrusts. He lets go of her wrists and then his hands are everywhere, skimming down her side and gripping her hips so tightly she knows there'll be marks all over her tomorrow before sliding up her stomach to grope at her breasts.

It's not long before he feels her muscles tighten around him. Kono squeezes his biceps and whimpers his name, and he goes over the edge with her, his hips jerking against hers in violent, heavy spasms.

They stay there, breathing heavily, until she puts her hands on his chest. "Up."

Shakily, he pushes off her and collapses into a chair. She sits up, rubbing her back, and reaches for the bottle, which still sits at the edge of the table. Their glasses are somewhere on the floor with their clothes, so she takes a swig, then hands it to him and watches as he does the same.

"Too bad we didn't have any cards," She says, her eyes never leaving his face. "Who knows what could have happened."

Steve lets out a laugh and pulls her into his lap and she goes willingly.


End file.
